


the art of falling apart

by dolby



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bullying, Coming Out, Fluff, Gay Male Reader, Homophobic Language, M/M, Prom Shopping, Steve is dumb, cheesy high-school movie tropes, male reader - Freeform, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 11:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19904977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dolby/pseuds/dolby
Summary: the reader and his best friend Steve Harrington go shopping for their Prom attire, the only problem is neither one of you have dates yet.Set between Season 2 and Season 3.





	the art of falling apart

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is my first published work in years, i’m trying to get back into writing and i thought i’d start fresh! i hope u enjoy! i put a lot of cheesy high school movie tropes in this one.
> 
> warning for homophobic language
> 
> title is based on a soft cell song, because gay.

“Got any plans today? I know you don’t”

You hear a familiar voice speak from behind you. Immediately, you’re unable to keep yourself from smiling.

You stuff the rest of your books away and close your locker as the final bell of the school day rings, turning to face the boy looming over you. You’re greeted to that typical shit-eating grin on your best friend.

“Depends, Harrington. Would you like me to accompany you to get that overgrown beaver pelt sitting on your head snipped off?” You replied, leaning against lockers and crossing your arms. Steve clutches his chest, faking a pained expression, “Harsh, y/n! You know, you’re always picking on me about my hair, I’m starting to think you’re actually jealous.”

“Oh please, why the hell would I be jealous of that?”

You lose your train of thought as you carefully watch Steve move his hand away from his chest. He extends his arm and put his hand on the lockers, directly next to your head, almost trapping you between the wall and him. He leans in, and you look into his eyes desperately for an answer.

“This hair’s a total chick magnet, y’know. You should grow yours out.” He says, pretending to be completely oblivious to what he was doing. Does he treat all his male friends like this??

“Anyways, hair tips aside, we’re going to find our prom getups today,” he removes his hand from the lockers, bringing it up to run through his hair instead, “My dad mentioned this menswear store on Main Street. I’ll admit, I’m gonna need your help since you’ve got a better sense of fashion than I do, alright? Are you down?” He speaks with a bit of enthusiasm in his voice. It feels like a billion butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“Of course!” You grin, but fallback on your sarcasm, “As if I could say no to your unusual enthusiasm, Harrington.”

You walk side by side out the school, into the warm April air. Heading towards Steve’s car, the two of you catch up on what happened in your classes today. As he babbles about his English essay, or something, you feel a bit flustered about your little outing with him. It’s not like this is anything new and exciting, you and Steve have been great friends for months. You hang out everyday after class, study together, drink beer by his pool at late hours of the weekend, all that typical teenager stuff. But lately, being around Steve has been a living hell in the best way possible. 

You first became friends after Christmas break, being paired on a History project about World War II. Unfortunately, he spent the whole time crying over Nancy at your house while you completed the whole assignment yourself. At first it was a shock, seeing “King” Steve Harrington not act as tough as he seemed, but you kindly comforted him out of his depressive state. You figured he needed a friend after his crew turned out to be total douchebags last year, and the only other friends he talked about were a group of nerdy kids he babysits for from Hawkins Middle School.

Steve was always devilishly handsome in your eyes, and he actually turned out to have a pretty great personality once you got to know him. He was passionate and caring, he was extremely loyal, and the dumb things he said always made you laugh. It was oh so easy to fall for him.

Now here you are, you thought, a closeted gay 12th grade student secretly in love with your straight best friend. It hasn’t been easy, especially since Steve has been a lot more... ‘friendlier’ lately, being more touchy-feely and planning fun outings for you guys to do instead of smoking pot behind the bleachers after second period.  
And this new, more comfortable Steve wasn’t making your crush any less painful.

As you walk both walk across the student parking lot, you catch the eyes a few of jocks from the football team staring you down from their shitty pick-up truck.

“Hey, Stevie!”  
You catch the eye of a few jocks from the football team staring you down from their pick-up truck. The one with dark hair yells again, “Is that your boy toy? I didn’t you hung around fags, dude” he speaks louder, followed by an uproar of laughter from his friends.

Steve stops dead in his tracks, “What the hell did you just say, Anderson? Do you want me to kick your ass in front of you and your small-dicked jockheads?” He clenched his fists, but you quickly grab his arm before he could do something stupid. 

“You used to be cool, man. But once you lost a couple fights, you turned weak. Look at you now, you’re turning into a queer like your little fairy friend there. Some choice you made.” Anderson continues, disregarding Steve’s attempt at a threat. He slams the door of his truck as the rest of his gang hops in the back, throwing a couple empty beer cans your way as they speed off.

You finally let go of Steve, continuing to walk in silence. It’s not the first time those words have been thrown at you, but it’s more embarrassing when it happens in front of Steve.

“Hey, don’t listen to what those jerkoffs say, they’re probably playing with each other’s dicks in the back of that truck as we speak. Anderson’s probably the gayest kid at this school.” Steve says with a smirk, trying his best to cheer you up and calm himself down. When he catches up with you, you fake a smile.

You hop into Steve’s car, as he drives he rambles on about some girl who always stares at him during first period, probably another girl he’s banged.  
You wish you were listening, but thoughts clouded your head. There’s no way Steve would still be your friend if you told him you were gay. It would be gross to be around me, right? Who’d be proud to be friends with a faggot? You know Steve still cares about his reputation at this school deep down inside, he just doesn’t want to admit it. Boys liking boys isn’t exactly acceptable to most people, especially a community as tight-knit as Hawkins. Coming out could very well ruin everything, and were you really ready to risk everything just to tell your straight friend how much you dream about kissing him? Great, now you’re thinking about sharing your first kiss with Steve. Dancing together. At prom. Under dimly-lit fake chandeliers. While Eurythmics played softly in the background. Running your hands through his quaffed hair, that damn fucking hair.

“I think that’s the place?” You tune back into the moment, hearing Steve whining, “Oh god, it looks way outdated, why did I trust my dad’s recommendation?” He parks the car in front a dusty-looking store, “Solomon’s Own”. There were frilly, embroidered tuxes and brightly coloured 70s suits on the mannequins in the window, it looked like Adam Ant’s wardrobe.

“Doesn’t hurt to check it out while we’re here, why not try a little vintage? We might find something nice.” You nudge him before stepping out of the car, eager to be distracted from your thoughts. Steve follows, a bit reluctant. There was no way you were wasting a day of going shopping with him, even if it’s at a crappy second-hand store run by geezers.  
As you hold open the door for him, he whispers close to your face, “y/n, I trust you, please don’t make me look like a total dweeb, or you're dead.” He raises his eyebrows before entering the store with a smirk. It’s so tempting to mess with him now.

—

After a while of shuffling through hangers of second-hand suit jackets and pants, throwing a few over your arm for both yourself and Steve, you make your way over to him to show off your impeccable picks. You find him by a rack of sportswear, caressing a pair of bright blue worn-out tennis shoes.  
What a dork.

“Steve, I’m begging you, please don’t buy those.”

“Oh, what? Dude, are you seeing these beauties? These shoes speak to me, all right? Why wouldn’t I get them?” He says, holding up the shoes, as if that’d convince you any more. But god damn, how cute he looked right now would be the only thing to maybe convince you otherwise.

“Because if you want to make your date happy, you would not wear old tennis shoes to prom!” You spit out, riffling through your pile for the picks you got for Steve.

“Uh, whose my date?”

You freeze. Oh.

“Sorry, y-you’re not taking that girl you talked about earlier? The one who stares at you all the time?” your nervously mutter. Why are you nervous?? Apparently you can’t talk about dating with Steve without your brain shutting down. You hand him his pile and lead him towards the change rooms.

“Tammy Thompson? Totally not into her, she’s not my type. Yeah, I don’t have a date, I don’t even know who to ask yet...” He trails off, his voice sounds defeated. After a pause, he goes back to his doofusly confident self, “My to-do list of babes is just too long. How will I ever choose which one gets a magical prom night with King Steve?”

“Your to-do list is too long, huh? Then why haven’t you been laid since your last girlfriend, num-nuts?” You snicker, sticking your tongue out at him before running into an open change room and shutting the door behind you.

“Really?! Keep cracking those jokes and you’ll regret it, y/n, I swear to god. Also you’re a virgin, so I’ve already won.” You hear him laugh along as he enters the change room next to yours.

You slip out of your usual daywear and into the first suit you picked out; a grey cotton plaid 3-piece. The jacket and vest fit perfectly, but the slacks are a problem.  
They fit around your waist well, but they hugged your legs a lot more than you anticipated. And sure, they make your ass look fantastic, but you’re stuck staring in the mirror deciding whether or not you’d feel comfortable wearing them in public. 

“Are you done yet? I think I found the suit for me, I need you to tell me how smoking hot I look in it!” Steve calls out.  
Oh Harrington, you think, if only you knew that’s all I think about every night.

You step out the change room, “First of all, I’m the one who picked out your suits for you, and-“ 

You get cut off by the mere sight of Steve fixing his hair in a large mirror beside the changing rooms, he stands in a black polyester suit with a white button-up. Yes, Steve is always attractive, but you could’ve never imagined the first time you'd ever see him in a suit would make your knees weak.

“-And I guess I picked well. You look.. amazing. Who knew you cleaned up so well.” You sigh out in a sultry voice, but Steve is too absent-minded to notice your flirting. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice, I swear the ladies will be at each other’s throats trying to get just one dance with me.” He continues posing in the mirror, fiddling with the cuffs.

You approach, standing side by side with him. He finally looks at you, breaking to a smile and taking a step back to examine your whole figure.  
“Hey, you don’t look too bad either.” He chuckles as you imitate the model poses you caught him doing. You look at Steve through the reflection of the mirror, watching his hungry eyes move up and down the back of your body until finally fixating on your butt. You feel your face heat up, there’s no way you can’t pick these pants now.

After a moment, Steve meets your eyes in the reflection, and turns his head away in embarrassment immediately. Before you can say anything, he clears his throat in hopes to take away from the moment.

“So, uh, do you have any idea who to take as your date? I saw you and Angela H. bonding over those girly high school romance movies in History yesterday, she seems way interested in you” Steve says, adding a small wink at the end.

“Angela H.? No, I lent her my Sixteen Candles VHS and she was just giving it back. Also John Hughes films are not girly, they’re charming. I’ll lend you my collection sometime” You explain, walking back into your change room to avoid the conversation. “Besides, I’m not interested in taking any girls” You mutter under your breath, closing the door.

“Don’t say that, I bet there’s tons of chicks who dig you. They’re just waiting for you to make the first move!”  
“Steve, you don’t understand-”  
“I don’t want you to beat yourself up about it, that’s all. Prom’s an important night.”  
“I don’t think I even want to go to this stupid prom, I get tormented enough.” You slip back into your jeans and shirt, speaking with more aggravation.

“If any of those football dumbasses give you a hard time, I’ll knock ‘em out cold in the middle of the dance floor.” Steve replies.

“Wow, my hero. I can stand up for myself, you know. I really don’t want you to get involved with this, actually.”

“Hey, I could do without the attitude.” Steve says in his best ‘babysitter’ voice, he likes to call it, “Why are you so defensive about this? I’m just trying to help you. I hate seeing you get pushed around.”

“You have no idea what I go through, just stop talking about it!”

“Well if you want to stop getting picked on, let me give you an idea, ask out a girl for Christ’s sake and finally prove to the school you’re not a queer so they can leave you alone!”

Silence. He sighs from the other room, but doesn’t speak. That’s all you had to hear to know how he felt about you.

You storm out of the area, grabbing your backpack and tossing your pile of suits on the floor. You hear him stuttering apologies as he tries going after you, struggling to do up his belt as he follows. Exiting the store with tears, you duck into the alleyway beside the movie theatre.

Of course Steve thought this way, he used to be one of those same assholes he promised to protect you from. He’d be the one calling you a faggot and shoving you into the lockers if he was still reigning over the school.

But you loved him, and that’s what made everything all the more heartbreaking. You loved his shitty taste in music, and his stupid hair. You loved the way his face lit up whenever you would pass by each other in the halls, and when he honks his car horn every morning outside your house to drive you to school. The way his nose crinkled and his eyes glistened when he laughed his adorable laugh after you both would show up to class high, or when he thanked you a million times for helping him get a B- on his Geometry test, hugging you for the first time. That’s when you realized you had a crush on him, the feeling of being held in his arms was something you never forgot. You loved everything about him. Even when he says dumb things, even when he has a past that no one could forgive him for, he still means the world to you.  
Sitting against old bricks beside a dumpster, looking like a mess, all you wanted was him.

And there he was, suddenly appearing over you. His brows furrowed and his mouth frowning. His breathing was frantic, he falls to his knees and puts a hand on your shoulder, begging for remorse.

“Look, y/n, that wasn’t what I meant to say. You know I’m not good with words...”

“Then what was your intentions with your so-called ‘advice’? What’s your problem?” You mumble, wiping away the tears on your cheeks. This is the first time Steve has ever seen you cry, and it feels like hell. You weren’t ready for him to see your vulnerability, you wanted to snap back to your calm and collected self. You wanted to feel safe again.

“I mean, it’s just.. I’ve just never seen you talk to girls a whole lot, okay? It seems like you’re too nervous to get a girlfriend, but I want you to be happy. I’m trying to encourage you, because you're the coolest person I’ve ever met. I want you to put yourself out there, I want the world to see how likable you are. You’re gonna be the best boyfriend someday.” 

You stare deep into his eyes as he speaks, leaning more into his touch. Maybe he was good with words. But you know things still aren’t quite clicking for him.

“You really don’t understand why I don’t have a girlfriend, or why I don’t even talk about girls, huh?” You grin, rubbing your red puffy eyes.

“Because, uh... you’re scared of being turned down?” he says innocently.  
“Steve...”  
“What??”

You sigh. It’s now or never. Just spit it out. Get it over with, take the bullet.

“... I’m gay.”

Steve blinks. He drops his hand from your shoulder. 

It’s over, months of a built up friendship being torn down by 2 silly words. All you can do now is pray the man you admired wouldn’t beat you to a pulp in this disgusting alleyway.

He opens his mouth, but pauses and opts to stare at the ground instead. After a few seconds of terrible thoughts run through your head, you watch him nods his head, finally letting out a chuckle.

“Is it.. is it that obvious? How could I, of all people, not have figured that out sooner?”

“No, no, it’s totally okay! I didn’t want you to know, because I thought you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore-“

“All these months, I’ve been thinking same thing about you, but with me.” He says, meeting your gaze again. Now it’s your turn to be confused.

“What do you mean?”

“I, uh... God, I’m really saying this, huh.. I don’t really know what it’s called. I like girls... but I’ve also been attracted to guys before. I think I heard a term for that in some TV show, can’t remember what they said though.” he speaks while avoiding eye contact, focusing on twiddle his thumbs.

“You’re bisexual?” you spit out, a little shocked and a little excited. It feels like the weight of the world has been lifted off your shoulders.

“Yeah, bisexual, I... I’m bisexual. I’ve never said that out loud, I haven’t told anyone, either. But that’s what I’ve felt like for the longest time. I couldn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to lose my popularity, you know?” He finally looks into your eyes again, he seems more comfortable. 

You move closer and wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him into a hug. His body is trembling against you, he was just as nervous as you felt moments ago. He hugs you back, quietly thanking you.

“It means so much to me that you told me that, you have no idea” you speak quietly into his ear.

“Dude, you’re my best friend. We sometimes bicker, but I really do think you’re the coolest person I know. And you’re so brave for putting up with so much bullshit, I don’t know how you do it.”

You loosen the embrace, but your hands remain on his shoulders.

“It’s you. It’s because of you I get through it all, Steve.”

His hands move down and rest on your waist. You blush, he smiles watching your face turn red.

“Steve, I-“  
“I love you, y/n.”

It feels like the world has stopped spinning. Steve has you locked on his eyes, you part your lips to speak, and Steve is quick to shift his attention onto them.

“I love you, too” you whisper, finally managing to make a coherent sentence.

He perks into a small grin, “I’ve been trying to flirt with you for weeks since I realized, dummy”

“I’m sorry! I just thought you were being nice! Maybe you should try again? But make it more obvious this time.” you shrug.

He licks his lips, inching a bit closer.  
“Can I kiss you?”

You answer by pulling him forward by the shoulders, crashing your lips together.

You close your eyes, taking in the moment.  
Your mouths move in sync, everything was perfect.  
The sweet taste of his soft lips, how his cheap cologne had never smelled better until right now. You feel his sharp inhale of warm breath against your face as he parts his lips on yours, proceeding to dive back onto your mouth. You deepen to kiss, he squeezes your hips to respond, causing a shiver to run through your body and a small noise to escape from your throat.

When your lips finally part to breathe again, you realize your hands ended up entangled in his long hair. You look into each other’s eyes again, still inches apart, smiling and nervously laughing. You’re both blushing, shaking messes in each other’s arms. It was the most beautiful moment of your life.

You swallow your nerves away, teasingly messing up his mullet with your fingers before sitting with your back against the wall again.

“That was my first kiss with a boy” you lied. It was your first kiss ever. But if you told him that, it would go to his head and make him more cocky than he already is.

“Mine too.”

“I didn’t quite imagine it beside a garbage can, but I can’t say you didn’t somehow make it magical, either.” you chuckle, staring at your surroundings

He holds your hand. You meet his eyes again.

“I want you to be my date to prom.”

“Steve... As romantic as that is, and as much as I’m swooning on the inside,” you sigh, squeezing his hand, “I don’t think I’m ready for everyone to know that I like boys. We’ve only got a month until graduation, then everyone who’s ever hurt me will leave this stupid town. And I can be myself, I’ll feel safe. I’d do anything to dance with you, though...”

“Then we’ll hide underneath the bleachers and dance, kiss, whatever. We’ll find a dark corner, it’ll just be you and me. But if I can’t take my boyfriend to prom and miss out on seeing him in that suit that makes his ass look amazing, I might regret it for the rest of my life.” he says, giving you those half-lidded flirty eyes you’d ever only see him give to the girls he would hit on.

“Oh, nice one, Casanova.” you roll your eyes, standing to your feet and pulling him up along with you. He suddenly holds his hand against your chest, right over your heart, to feel it beating at what feels like a million miles an hour.

“I dunno, seems like it worked.” He says, smirking. “And you didn’t even say anything about me calling you my boyfriend, either. I know I’m the smoothest man in Hawkins, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Maybe because I’m not so oppose to the idea of being your boyfriend.” you answer, walking back towards the street, fingers interlocked, “But you’re gonna have to take me a date first, you can’t win me over on bad pick-up lines alone.”

“Fine, but here’s one more I came up with. King Steve may have lost his crown, but he found his prince” he says, bowing and kissing your hand.

“Oh my God, you are so lame, Harrington.”


End file.
